Broken
by KnightLyght
Summary: Someone in Hogwarts has become broken, and needs someone to bring together again. Finshed.
1. Scar, Blood, and Tears

Title: Broken.  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
Rating: PG-13, just in case.  
  
Genre: Angst.  
  
Secondary Genre: Romance/Drama.  
  
Soundtrack to Chapter: Broken: Seether and Amy Lee.  
  
Summary: He's happy. Or content at least. Or so it seems. What happens to him when he's alone? What torture does he put himself through after the life he's had to live? What does he tell himself? Is he all he seems to be, or is he someone else when he's alone?  
  
Kid(6/30/04): Hey. sigh Okay, okay, I know. "There is Only One" should be almost finished by now right? Well, sad to say, but it's not. And even more sad is the fact that I started on the first chapter on 3/22, and finished it about 3/29. And it's past three months later, and I've barely got 1400 words, if that wrote on the second chapter. With that out, I know I shouldn't be starting on another story, but I want to get this out, and finished hopefully. Maybe by the time school starts again, I will have it finished. Heavy sigh Well, Fushigi's ran out of her own ideas, so she pulls me out again. I hope this is..... Okay. Maybe even good. Eh, whatever.  
  
Updates: As I said before There is Only One is on it's second chapter. I still don't have a start on the sequel to Disappearence. Previous events is going no where and I'm thinking of taking it off. I've written a new HP fic called 'Promises'. I'm leaving it a one shot until I get it posted and get a responce, and whether I take it off or add more chapters is up to the reviewers. Anyway, I've also started on a new 'Wolf's Rain' fic, and 'Yugioh' fic, but I'm at a wall with them too. Now, done with updates, on to story:  
  
-  
  
Chapter One: Scars, Blood, and Tears.  
  
Did he always sit like this at the window? Did he always watch the rain, a dead look on his face reflecting in his eyes? No. He couldn't. He didn't; it wasn't this way around his friends. He was content, and maybe even happy. But he betrayed that composure now, with his hair in a clutter on his head, and his knees held close to his chest as he rocked back and forth, muttering to himself. It was wrong, seeing the boy like this. Seeing him in such disarray, and not being able to do a damn thing about it. It wasn't fair, but then it never was.  
  
The boy looks up, searching the room, then he sighs. No, no one was there. There never was, no matter how hard he looked or tried to make himself believe it. It only caused a false hope to swell in his chest, then explode, leaving an even bigger hole in his chest then there was before.  
He curles back up, leaning his head against the cool bricks.  
  
"Of course there isn't anyone there. No one cares enough about you to come and find you. The others only put up with you because of who you are. You know that. Why bother telling yourself anything else?" He mutters to himself, and immediantly he begins to rock again. He laughs, making himself shiver, and goosebumps form on his arms and legs. "You're nothing to them. Only a doll. A tool to get what they want. Only a thing that they hardly give recognition to otherwise. Get over yourself! You know that you'll never have any real, true friends. No one will ever love you. You are just a cold, heartless snake." Again he shivers, but this time from the tears now flowing silently and freely down his cheeks.  
  
"No," He whispers in a soft voice. "no, you're wrong! They are my friends! And I'm not cold! I'm not heartless. I'm not a tool." With each statement the boy's already quiet voice becomes more and more hushed until only he could hear it, but only because he was thinking it in unison with his voice. "I'm someone! I have people who love me, who-" His voice catches in his throat, making a sound between a cry and a sob. He laughs at himself. "Is this what you tell yourself everyday before you go into the Great Hall? How could you ever believe that it's true? It's lunacy; it's just an illusion to give yourself the right amount of false will and hope to hold your head up. You aren't wanted. No one could care less if you croaked right now." He nods. "No one would care. I'm nothing." He whispers back to himself. Beside him, he picks up a shard of a mirror he had earlier broken. He looks at his reflection and winces, turning away from the broken eyes, the torn glare that gave no help, no mercy. Ignorant to his actions, he drags the shard of glass across his plam, and onto his bare legs, not stopping until he hit hard ground.  
  
Finally looking down to the fresh cuts, he watches as the blood pools beneth him. He shakes his head. It wasn't enough. Almost. But not enough. So he takes the fragment of the mirror, the edge now covered with blood, and he pulls the point across his chest. He pushes the point in, not stopping. The pain that washed over him kept him safe, kept him alive, one might say.  
  
He stops, looking out the window again, counting the raindrops. He puts the shard back down beside him and cleans up the blood he lost. He takes off his robe and examines the fibers. Yes, the blood had been soaked in, and he'd be questioned if he had someone else do it, so, using a simple spell, the boy erases the blood, leaving it spotless to the naked eye. There would be no proof that he was ever here; that any of this ever happened. No one would know. No one.  
  
"Hey, where were you last night, Harry?" Seamus asks. "I don't remember you ever coming back into the boy's dorm." Harry smiles. He, Seamus, Hermione, and Ron all walked down the halls, conversing between each other. "I went for a walk." He tells the boy simply. Seamus looks at the raven head skeptically. "That was a hell of a long walk, then Harry. Besides, it was raining! You couldn't have went outside." "Yeah, mate. He's right. You were gone for a long time. What could The Boy Who Lived have on his mind that would make him take that long of a walk?" Looking up from her book, Hermione pipes in. "Stop it Ron! If Harry wanted an interrogation, he would have found a Professor. Merlin, I can't believe I forgot to read this chapter!" And she buries her nose into the Potions book yet again. Smirk in place, Harry looks at Ron. He shrugs, saying goodbye to everyone as he reached his class: Divinations.  
  
When Professor Trelawney had been sacked because of Umbrige, Harry had opted to take Divinations yet again, just to see if it was him or the Professor that was going wrong. So far, it'd been him. But luckily, the new Professor hadn't seen any Grims that like to populate his tea leaves so very often. Mostly he'd been able to scrape by without getting called on much this year, which pleased him to no end.  
  
Harry steps into the classroom. He looks around then turns to walk out again. Obviously he was in the wrong class. Divinations never had... Desks! He begins to walk out of the room when-  
  
-Oof! Harry goes head first into someone else, only making himself stumble back a bit, but causing the other to fall, and not too gracefully, Harry noted. He looks down. "Sorry 'bout... that......" He raises an eyebrow. "Malfoy?" Draco looks up at his "attacker", scowling. The Slytherin opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it again. Draco begins trying to get up, which was turning out to be more difficult than it should have been, as he and Harry both realized. Suddenly, a hand is held out in front of him. He looks up at Harry again, confusion showing in his eyes, but he takes it nonetheless and is hoisted up to his feet again easily. Harry offers Draco an apologetic smile and not waiting for one in return, goes to a desk.  
  
Draco's eyes follow the retreating form back to a desk. Had Potter really just helped him up? Yes, he had. And had he just smiled at him? Yes,  
he had also done that. Draco's mind wasn't fooling him. He sighs. "What am I doing?" He smirks, then shakes his head. He couldn't think about it right now.  
  
The boy watches him from the corner of his eye, watching every move he made. It was weird, this affixation he felt towards the boy, but who was he to deny that the feeling existed? He had known about them for a year now, but it taken him half of that to stop denying them and realize they weren't going to go away just because he wanted them to. But, like it was said last night, no one is ever going to like, much less love him, so what would the point be? It'd just cause him to hate himself even more and have others know what he really was. That was all.  
  
So, what was he doing watching him like a hawk? Watching him talk to his friends. The other boy would never talk to him, he knew it. They'd been quarreling for far too long for the other to think of him in any way other than that of an enemy. His.... fondness of the boy was one-sided and it always would be. "He has no reason to even look at me, so why do I play with my hope? Why do I keep causing myself more pain than I need?" He whispers. "You're right. He wouldn't look at you. Haven't you noticed every time he looks at you he grimaces?" He laughs, causing the ones around him to look at him. He puts his head down and takes in slow breaths.  
  
"Hey, are you alright?" He looks up and nods. They smile and go back to listening to the professor. "At least someone likes to pretend." He whispers to himself. That statement made the boy feel a little better. Enough to once again lift up his head and almost smile.  
  
How many times had he walked down these halls? How many times had he saw the same people pass him and never even look at him. Though it was unusual, it was quiet satisfying too. He'd been stared at for most of his life, for one reason or another, and he was never quiet sure why sometimes, but then, most of the time he did do something that caused the stares. He didn't care. Most of what he done was well deserved, or just needed. Especially that for his family. He never really liked his family, but with a family like his, not many would.  
  
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, but never really messing it up.  
  
"Hey Blaise! Wait up!" Someone calls from behind him. It was a... Ravenclaw? He watches as the Ravenclaw runs past him and on down the hall; again, someone who didn't even notice him. What did he care? He should know that no one, not even his house would care anymore. It was inevitable, but again he didn't care. These.... sessions at night had caused what feelings he had to either freeze or disappear completely. All he done anymore was act out his "normal" life with false emotions, and no one noticed. He was thankful. But also, he was saddened. He wanted to talk to someone, but who? Certainly not his friends, and not a Professor. He couldn't go to the nurse. This wasn't a physical injury; the results were, but not the actual problem.  
  
Actually, the boy wasn't even sure if it was a problem. He'd gotten so used to adding new scars to his skin that in a way, he needed it. He needed to feel the pain that was inflicted, both physically and emotionally. And that was enough to scare him.  
  
Harry pressed his back against the chair, sinking deeper into it. He sighs. After the quidditch practice, this was all he felt like doing. Sitting and stareing into the fire at his feet. He lets his thoughts wander. To a specific person, to be exact. Again, he sighs, letting, willing his mind to construct every inch of the other's body, letting them fuse right before his eyes.  
  
But, out of every detail, he worked on constructing their eyes the most. He loved looking into the ashen colored eyes of the perfection that is known as Draco Malfoy. He loved drowning in the fathomless pits that he so often caught watching him, just as he watched Draco.  
  
Harry chuckles at the thought of Draco and him. It would make him so happy; but then, it'd cause over half of the student body to be happy if Draco went out with them. Of course almost all of the female body, which took up a great deal of Hogwarts anyway, and most of the male body.  
No one though could deny that he was the sexiest guy around. No one would deny it, not even Draco himself, but that didn't come as a surprise.  
  
What is it that we fear the most? Is it our death? Or someone elses. Maybe it's not existing, or vise versa. For him, it was himself. It was the blood that spilt from his veins every night. It was the words that flowed so easily from his throat that would eventually cause him to break. That would leave him broken for the rest of his life; that would leave him broken for everyone to see. That was what he feared, even as he once again slit open the skin that protected the blood he so feared.  
  
"Not a drop of your blood is cared for. None of it will go noticed by anyone but you. You don't exist anymore. You are but a walking corpse. A damned being taking the place of someone whom no one cared for, and still isn't. No matter how much you bleed, no matter how many tears you shed, you'll be broken. Once broken, twice destroyed, never to be fixed." He whispers, going across his palm and legs again, deeper than before, deeper than he'd ever gone. But he didn't feel it anymore. He didn't feel anything except for the tears that would flow down his face as a sign of his weaknesses. A sign of hopelessness. But for now, the non-existing pain, the flowing blood, and his tears were enough to substain him. For now.  
  
Kid: Hmmm.. Okay, so it doesn't tie in with the song, but it was originally supposed to. As you can tell, it didn't exactly end up like that. Oh well, maybe I'll start another one sometime that actually does tie in with the song. I hope you liked this and all that. Please review this! I don't get many reviews..... Yeah.. Anyway. I'll try to start and actually finish the second chapter not too long after now, but I'll post it a week to a week and a half after this. Kay?  
  
Fuyu: That was sad!! How could you to that to-  
  
Kid: clamps hand over Fuyu's mouth You can't tell! I want them to guess. Oh, btw, when you review tell me who you think it is, and if you have any suggestions for the story, tell me!  
  
Fuyu: passes out from lack of air.  
  
Kid: Oops. Well... Drops Fuyu I guess he misses out.  
  
tbc!!! 


	2. Quidditch Accidents, Confessions, and Re...

Title: Broken.

Harry Potter.

Rating: PG-13, just in case

Genre: Angst.

Secondary Genre: Romance/Drama.

Soundtrack to Chapter: (Broken: Seether and Amy Lee.) Enigma: Trapt.

Summary: He's happy. Or content at least. Or so it seems. What happens to him when he's alone? What torture does he put himself through after the life he's had to live? What does he tell himself? Is he all he seems to be, or is he someone else when he's alone?

Kid (7/1/04): Well, looks like I've actually got ideas for what I want to happen in this chapter, but I only know a little bit. I actually came up with these ideas after I'd went to bed. I was talking to a friend and I kept trying to figure out what should happen in this chapter, and he, some howmade me think of the Dursleys and Malfoys. Scary huh? Well, that's how I came up with this. It will hopefully end up being longer (by maybe1000 words) than the first chapter, but if it isn't, I'm sorry! Really I am! -".Anyway, Fushigi is still out; somehow, and for some reason, she's gone into a comatose state and I, of course, can't wake her, and neither can

Fuyu, so we are stuck doing this. Which, that isn't really a bad thing. We do write better than her sometimes. Eh.. She'll be up soon probably.

Fuyu: Maybe. I've tried everything! I've even... Well, I guess the ways don't need to be said. I say shes dead.

Kid: starts backing away from Fuyu Umm.. Yeah. Anyway, let's go on to the story.

-

Chapter two: Quidditch Accidents, Confessions, and Realization.

The scars on his arms were getting worse with every night, where once there was none. The words coming from his mouth were getting harsher with every sentence, where they were once almost sadened. His eyes were becoming more and more languid with every day, where once they would light up the darkests of shadows. His mind was becoming more inapt with every trickle of blood, where once it was clear and sharp. His voice was turning shy and doubtful, where he once spoke with confidence and determination. The ruptures and rifts in his spirit created a new person. Everyone knew it, and some thought it was for the best, but others saw it as disterbing, especially his fellow house mates.But no one knew, so how could they help repair the breaks in him? No one cared enough. No one cared enough to help, even if they did know. They'd just laugh. They'd just break him faster.

"Deeper. Go deeper, dammit!" He cries. This time, he needed to feel. He'd become to numb; his nerves too dead. He'd wanted to feel the pain of his body to stop feeling the pain from in his chest, in his mind. Suddenly, the knife in his hands slips, going under his kneecap, tearing it off from his leg entirely. He doubles over and grits his teeth, trying not to make a sound. "That's better." He whispers to himself as sobs wreck his frame. "That's much better." He unfolds his body and tries to stand, pushing himself up with the wall. And slowly, with tears falling down from his eyes, he makes his way back to the common room, biting his tounge to keep from crying out.

"Let's see..." Hermione pauses in her scribbling to look over a book. "Tookaje?" She looks up at Ron and Harry. This had been a once in a lifetime opportunity. In Muggle Studies, the Professor had declaired it Ethics Week, and assigned each of them a diffrent country. Harry was blessed with Russia, Ron got Africa, and Hermione got Japan. It hadn't been that bad..... Until they were assigned their homework. They had to go through the alphabet and name an animal that's name began with each letter, then find it's translation for their country's language. It hadn't seemed to hard at the time, but now, it was just plain confusing to poor Hermione, and somehow, Ron and Harry seemed to be experts on this country. Especially the language.

Both Harry and Ron laugh at her pronuciation. "Iie! Iie, 'Myni (No! No, 'Mione).Tokage. To-Ka-Ge." Ron says. Hermione shakes her head then trys again. "Toukage." Ron and Harry look at each other. "Close enough. Next?" "Uh.." Hermione looks at her paper, "M. Mouse!" She flips though the English-Japanese dictionary at her side. "Neisumi." "Matta iie (Again, no.) Nezumi." "Nesumi." Harry shakes his head while Ron holds his head in his hands. "'Myni, why don't we go through and come up with the animals, and then, tomorrow night, we can work more on your pronunciation. Okay?" Harry says, smiling sympathetically at her. She crosses her arms and raises her head higher. "What was wrong with my pronuciation?! Huh?" "Well let's see." Ron says as he begins to count off his fingers. "Instead of kirin, you say keren, which has no meaning, you say kingio instead of kingyo, which has no meaning, you say teika instead of taka, which has no meaning, you say kaneko instead of kon-" Hermione slaps him. "ITAI!!! (OWW!!!)" He rubs his cheek, narrowing his eyes at Hermione. "What the bloody hell was that for?" He demands. "You don't have to put everything I've pronounced wrong in my face, Ronald!" "You do it to us!" "I do not! I simply point out your mistakes!" "And think that you can't make any! It's a taste of your own medicine Hermione!" Hermione gets up and, not looking back at either one of them, walks out of the common room.

"I think you may have went a bit far Ron." Harry says, furrowing his brows at his friend. "No, she deserved it." Ron looks over at her work, then at the fire. He sighs, leaning back in the chair. "I'm going to go look for her, alright Ron?" Ron nods as Harry gets up, pushing the portrait door open.

It didn't take long to find the girl, hunched over the sink in Myrtle's restroom. Harry furrows his eyebrows, but walks over to her anyway. "Are you alright Hermione?" He asks, then thinks of the scene he witnessed, and Hermione's position, deciding that that was a stupid question. "I'm sure Ron was just joking when he said that, Hermione. He wouldn't purposely hurt you like that, you know." Hermione sniffles before looking up at him. "Yes he would. You heard his voice! He meant every word of it." She says, never directly looking at Harry. Harry grins and shakes his head. "What I meant Hermione is, he couldn't help it. Sure he meant it. You know it and I know it, but he only said it before he thought about it. He didn't purposely hurt you. He only said the first thing that came to mind." Hermione sighs then nods, knowing he was, at the least, partially right. She slowly walks up to him and puts her arms around him, surprising him. "Thank you, Harry." She says, then leaves.

Harry shivers, wrapping his arms around himself and vigorously rubbing his arms. Someone was watching him, it felt like, but whom? Who would be watching him at this hour?

He shakes his head and dismisses it as he heads back out to the halls. He wasn't going to go back to the common room, not with what just happened between Ron and Hermione, so he decides to take his chances of getting caught without the Invisibility Cloak, but luckily he had the map with him. But it seemed, as he wandered around the halls, that no one, not even Filch was out. It was clear outside, he saw to his delight, and begins to head down to the quidditch field, grabbing his broom on the way. But it seemed he wasn't the only one who fancied flying after hours.

Draco Malfoy sped around the field, diving toward the ground and pulling up just as his feet grazed the dew wet grass. He seemed so at peace now, knowing he didn't have to please anyone, but was still doing just that, even if it was the Gryffindor he was supposidely still enimies with. It went unnoticed that Harry was there until Draco finally set his feet on the ground, the sun beginning to rise. He was wiping his forehead, releaving it of the sweat that was running and didn't notice the raven haired boy until he felt their shoulders hit. Emerald green meets metalic silver for a few brief, electric moments before:

"Potter, what the bloody hell are you-" He stops, noticing the Firebolt in Harry's white knuckled grip. "Oh. Well then," Draco does a sort of nod before continuing on his way. "Wait!" Harry calls out from behind him, making the Slytherin stop dead in his track and look back at the boy now jogging to catch up with him. "What?" Draco says venomously, trying to hide his nervousness behind sheilded eyes. "Uhmm.." Harry starts, showing Draco the very emotion he was trying to hide. Finally, Harry sighs, saying "I noticed that you were limping. Is everything alright?" Draco's eyes widen. Had the Gryffindor really just say that? And he seemed so genuinly honest. "I..." Draco begins, his voice catching in his throat. "Quidditch accident." He says simply, shrugging. "Nothing for a silly little Gryffindor to worry about." Harry laughs at the "silly little Gryffindor" comment, then narrow his eyes playfully at the other boy. "Come on. We'll be late for breakfist if we don't hurry." He tells Draco, walking on in front of him, hearing the hurried steps behind him. Soon enough, Draco catches up with Harry, but never looks at him.

What the hell are you doing? You're being fooled! Run now while you can! His mind screams at him, and he knew he should listen to it, but he felt like the other boy truely was concerned, and that had been what he'd wanted all this time. Someone to be concerned and be honest about it, not testing thier acting skills on him.

And he wanted to tell him all that had happened to him. Show him the scars, not only on his body, but on his mind, on his heart. The boy would listen. It was undeniable, he realized that now, but the question would always be the same: Would he care? Or would he tell him he should keep acting and not try to bring the others down with him. Maybe though, he'd laugh, telling him what an idiot he was. Could he take that chance?

Yes, he could, and he would. He'd tell the other boy.

It was unusual for the two hottest guys in Hogwarts to be late for breakfist on a week day, but rumors would be known to everyone by the end of the day when they were late and came in the Great Hall together. They were talking to each other, so fully engrossed in their conversation that Draco mistakenly followed Harry to the Gryffindor table and sat down beside him. Only when he turned to ask Hermione to hand over the Pumpkin Juice did he realize his mistake. Quickly getting up, he goes to sit with his own house mates, feeling everyone's eyes on him, especially Professor Snapes.

Immediantly, the platnium blonde is questioned, mainly by Pansy, whom he easily ignores. But Blaise was the one Slytherin that Draco Malfoy couldn't ignore, simply because he was his best friend. "What happened?" He asks simply, an undertone of amusement mixed with confusion lining his words. "Nothing. Nothing serious."

Obviously Draco didn't understand just how serious this was. He never sat with Gryffindors, much less Harry Potter. No one sat with anyone outside of their house mates, especially Slytherins. Blaise knew something was up. Draco looked... Happy? Yeah, that was it. He looked happy. An emotion Blaise hadn't seem on his face in over a year and it be the real thing. Draco was lieing to him about something, or at least not telling him something that, even if they were both Slytherins, Draco needed to talk about. But he -Blaise- had also noticed a few things that he knew no one else saw: like the way he would sit was watch Harry like a hawk after a dying rabbit, or the way his insults had turned into something one might arguably call playfull. Which, as everyone knew, wasn't like Draco at all. So, obviously something was up with the Slytherin sitting beside Blaise, and even though Draco wouldn't come right out and say it, Blaise knew what it was.

Draco had finally fallen in love, even if it was with The Boy Who Lived.

The day had went slowly for Harry after the scene with Draco. Every time he turned around, he was being questioned about it, leaving him ready to not only walk out of the school, but pull a "Weasly Twins" on the school. Luckily though, Ron and Hermione had seen this and were able to stop most of the more recent "reporters" from even getting close to Harry. Hermione had even, at one point, agreed with Harry about leaving the school for a little while. Harry and Ron had nearly fell out of their seats when Hermione admited this, but even she had to also admit that she was overflowing with curiosity about this morning. So, Harry told them. He told them everything, except his feelings for the blonde and that he didn't believe the whole "quidditch accident" jitz for his limp. They looked at each other then burst out laughing until they both had tears in their eyes.

"Haven't you heard the rumors?" Ron finally asks. Harry shakes his head. "What rumors?" Hermione wipes the tears from her eyes. "Harry, even the Hufflepuffs know about the rumors. It's said that you and Malfoy are often found snogging in the corner of the library now." "We figured them to be wrong though, mate, so we straightened them out." Ron smiles. "They were straightened out for sure." He says, more to himself then to the others. Harry, being afraid to ask, kept quiet.

Suddenly, he jumps up, throwing some excuse to his friends about needing to go to the library. He rushes out of the portrait door, not bothering to answer the Fat Lady when she yelled at him for pushing her open. He passes by the library, not even looking inside, but still skidding to a stop when the shock of platnium hair caught his attention in the corner of his eyes. There, sitting with (shock!) his, very beautiful, nose stuck in a book, was the one person Harry had been trying to find: Draco Malfoy.

Listening to his friends had made Harry realize a few things. One, this was their last year. If he was ever going to tell Draco of his feelings, now would be a more that perfect time to do so, and two, maybe he had been wrong. After all the things that had been happening here lately, maybe, just maybe his feelings hadn't been one-sided. But, there was the more probable theroy that Draco would just use this against him. Harry had to take that chance. But what would he say? "Hey Draco! How are ya? Me, I'm great, I just came by to tell you that I love you." No. Definently not! "Let's say I have a friend that has a friend that has a major crush on you. What would you do if they, oh.. I don't know, came out and told you?" No, to obvious. And he didn't have anymore time to think about it. He was already standing at the very desk that Draco Malfoy was currently occupying. And just so happened to be stareing up at him.

"Malfoy?" Draco raises an eyebrow. "What?" "Uhmm.." Harry clears his throat. "Could we possibly go somewhere else to talk?" Draco's eyes search Harry's momentarily before shruging nonchalauntly and following Harry.

What did he think he was doing? Harry asks him to talk. No problem. It was probably just to say something along the lines of "We really need to straighten out this rumor." Or "I don't know what's been said, but you do, I'm sure. Could you please deny all of it?". But either way, he did realize that Harry was leading him out to the quidditch feild. Which was probably the best... Suddenly, Harry takes a sharp turn, going up to a picture and pushing in a stone in the wall and floor at the same time. Beside Draco a small handle appears, giving Draco a few doubts and curious thoughts about what Harry wanted to talk to him about. "Come on." Harry whispers, followed by "Lumos." Draco follows the Gryffindor, dispite his mind telling him he should shut the door and lock Harry in it. But either way, he wouldn't have had time, because as soon as their feet touch the ground, candles light and Harry stood in front of him, worrying his lip to the point of almost bleeding.

"Well?" Draco says, ignoring the look in Harry's eyes the best he could. Harry starts walking toward him, timid like. He stops not three steps from Draco, sighs then inhales deeply. "I... I have a slight... confession to make Mal... Draco." Draco? Uh oh. Draco thinks, watching Harry still battle with himself. "Potter, I don't know-" "Harry. It's Harry. And, Draco, you might want to sit down." Draco does so, but keeps his face blank. "I..." the boy starts. Finally, after pacing in front of the Slytherin, Harry comes to stand before him. He sighs, beginning to walk closer to the other. He stops just enough to have to lean over and place his hands on the arms of the chair, closing the space between his and Draco's lips. It was a small kiss, but not so small that Draco couldn't tell what Harry was trying to tell him.

The kiss breaks, and Harry blushes. The Gryffindor doesn't move from over Draco, and at that point he didn't entend to either. He was just happy with the fact that Draco didn't push him away in discust. And, actually, Draco was pushing himself up from the chair. Harry moves, getting out of his way, but instead is pulled closer to Draco, who brings the stunned boy in for another, more passionate kiss. Draco's hands move to explore more of Harry, running over his shoulder and down his arms, pulling them even closer then that of what he already had. Harry breaks the kiss, taking one of Draco's roaming hands and bringing it up to his mouth, kissing it and letting his tounge roll over the scar. Harry looks down in confusion. The scar? On Draco's hand? The raven haired boy moves his eyes from the scar to Draco's face, seeing the pain in his eyes. Harry seperates their bodies, but only enough to push Draco's sleeve up his arm, revealing even more, though smaller, scars littering the seemingly flawless skin. He lets his fingers run over each and every scar, trying to think of what would cause Draco so much pain that he would do this. Finally, after thinking about it and tracing the last scar, he trys to fight the tears that come to his eyes, fogging the boy's vision. Harry looks up at Draco, but find's Draco's eyes are wandering the walls beside him.

"Why?" Harry asks, making Draco look at the boy before him. "Why would you do this, Draco?"

Kid(8/2/04)- That sure took long enough, eh? Well, the next chapter will be the last, that has been confermed. I just hope this is good. I really worked on this one. And with TIOO in a block too, I think I done OK on this. But, anyway, R&R, please!!! Oh, and I know I said something about the Dursleys and Malfoys, but I went in a diffrent direction that didn't need them.

Fuyu: Anyway, we hope you've liked this, and as Kid said, the next is the last chapter.

In Japanese, O and OU make two diffrent sounds. O is like the o in "fort", and ou is pronounced like the "ow" in snow. That could be the diffrence between "I love you" and "I have another girl/boy friend". Major difference.

tbc.


	3. Confessions, Explinations, and New Blood

Title: Broken.

Harry Potter.

Rating: PG-13, just in case

Genre: Angst.

Secondary Genre: Romance/Drama.

Soundtrack to Chapter: (Broken: Seether and Amy Lee.) Shiro: Wolf's Rain.

Summary: He's happy. Or content at least. Or so it seems. What happens to him when he's alone? What torture does he put himself through

after the life he's had to live? What does he tell himself? Is he all he seems to be, or is he someone else when he's alone?

Kid(8/3/04): Okay! I finished the second chapter yesterday, and I decided I wanted to start on the third one today. This is, as I said at the end of the last chapter, the final chapter for Broken. I know what I want to do, but I'm having a bit of trouble deciding how I want to do it. Maybe I'll think of something later on. Hmm.. OOH!! Food!!!!!

While eating Anyway! I'm really happy I got the second chapter to this finished. I thought I'd have to give up on it for a while there, but luckily my muse/author came back and gave me an idea. Fushigi was finally woken up but not easily. I had to give her a bunch of things before she'd even twitch!!!! Through mouthful Afyway. Gulp I hope I surprised you all, but the person I let read before hand said they figured it was Draco, only because he's the one that hates to have his skin non-faultess, and it would make more since if it was Draco. Since he figured it was Draco I'm thinking of doing something diffrent at the end of this. Evil laughter

Fushigi: I can't believe you would do that Draco!!! That's horrible!!

Kid: I thought I'd get that reaction from you, Fu. I guess it's what makes me an angst/tradgey and romance writer. Heh. I have fun.

Updates: There is Only One is on it's third chapter, with it's second having 2575 words. I'm okay with that. Disappearence still doesn't have a sequel started, and since I got a review from Hikage saying I was good at fluff, I'm going to try another fluffy fic here pretty soon. I guess that's about it.

-

Chapter Three: Confessions, Explinations, and New Blood.

"Why?" Harry asks, making Draco look at the boy before him. "Why would you do this, Draco?" Draco stares into Harry's tearful emerald eyes, trying to find a way to explain how he hated himself and what had happened to him. How he was two diffrent people stuck in one body: Draco himself and another unnamed personality that kept him beat down to the point of insomnia, feeling nothing, neither physically, mentally, or emotionally, and not being able to do anything but listen to him, coaxing him into turning his arms and legs into a sharping board. How, instead of a quidditch accident, he had willingly tore off his knee cap and tried to fix it back himself, not wanting to go to the nurse for help, how he knew that Harry would listen to him, help him, but he didn't want anyone's help, wouldn't accept anyone's help for the simple fact that if he can't fix the problem himself, no one else should try, and that was what got him in this situation in the first place. He wanted Harry to know that he loved him, but didn't want to drag him down too.

But, through all of that thinking, all Draco was able to mutter was "I don't.. Know." Tears fill Harry's eyes again, overflowing on his cheeks, leaving Draco feeling almost guilty for not being truthful to him. Suddenly, Harry's expression grows serious, his eyes narrowing. "That is a lie! Your limp, it wasn't because of a bloody quidditch accident! If it had, you would have went to the nurse to fix it, just so you would't have the limp, so you had to of done it yourself. Now why the bloody hell did you do it, Draco!" Harry's fingers unconsciously move along the scars on Draco's arms, tracing them all over again. Draco, though Harry didn't notice what he was doing, did. With each one, he relived that night, going back and hearing his voice in his head. _"You're nothing." "No one wants to know you, not even your own parents." "People only put up with you because of who you are." _

"I-" He starts, wondering where to start. Harry sighs, making Draco sit back down, him sitting in the floor at his feet and his head in Draco's lap. Draco takes in a shuttering breath before thinking over what had been said to him, and speaking them out to the boy at his feet. "_No one cares enough about you to come and find you. The others only put up with you because of who you are. You know that. Why bother telling yourself anything else? You're nothing to them. Only a doll. A tool to get what they want. Only a thing that they hardly give recognition to otherwise. Get over yourself! You know that you'll never have any real, true friends. No one will ever love you. You are just a cold, heartless snake. Not a drop of your blood is cared for. None of it will go noticed by anyone but you. You don't exist anymore. You are but a walking corpse. A damned being taking the place of someone whom no one cared for, and still isn't. No matter how much you bleed, no matter how many tears you shed, you'll be broken. Once broken, twice destroyed, never to be fixed." _Draco's voice was harsh, harsher then that of when he was seriously angry as he went over the worser, more recent nights. "I get told that, every night. I tell myself that, trying not to believe it, but I do. It's all true. I'm only a doll, a tool for my father, no one is a true friend to me, they only put up with me. I'm cold and heartless. Just like my Father." He whispers, his voice shaking with every word. Harry lifts his head up in disbelief. He wanted to shake him, to yell "No, it isn't true! People care for you! I care for you!" but he had a feeling this wasn't the end of his story, so he keeps his mouth shut. Draco inhales sharply and shakes his head before continuing. "The words always cut much deeper than the glass, the daggers, or the blades. So much deeper. I didn't feel any of it anymore. The glass wouldn't harm me, the daggers's points wouldn't bother me. I felt nothing for while. Physically, nor emotionally. I'd carry out my daily conversations with others, giving an act of what was expected.

"I didn't want that! I wanted to tell someone.... so badly. But I couldn't. They'd only laugh, making me worse." Harry mentally starts counting off the people he could have told that would help. Professor Dumbledor, Snape, Blaise, me, Pansy, McGonnagal. The list went on, but obviously Draco didn't see it that way. "I had thought about others. People I didn't know, but that would only be worse. "Don't drag anyone down with you." "At least act like you're happy". It was common for the one's who didn't know you to come up with something like that just so they might not feel guilty. So, I stayed in my corner, listening to myself, cutting off every emotion I could still feel." He sighs, not looking at Harry.

"But I got to the point to where I couldn't deal with it anymore. Not being able to feel the pain radiating from my body. So I decided to make myself feel something. I was going to pry my kneecap from my knee. Not much, just enough to feel. I ended up slipping and tearing if off entirely." He hears Harry hiss. "I liked it!" He laughs, almost happily. "The pain was... I don't know how to expain it. The pain was what kept me alive for the longest time. I felt.. Alive again, I guess. I tried to fix it on my own, as you said, but I didn't do too good of a job, did I?" Harry looks down, but doesn't say anything.

"And then I got sick of it. Of cutting my arms and legs, just to feel something real again. I didn't want to do it anymore. I had decided that that night I went out to fly." Harry happily remembers it, smiling softly. "I was going to tell someone. Who, I hadn't decided yet, but after you had asked about the limp, you decided for me. I would tell you. Slytherins don't care that much. Hufflepuffs wouldn't understand, therefore, not care, Ravenclaws... I'm not really sure. I just didn't want to tell one of them. But a Gryffindor. That could work. When you came and found me in the library, I was trying to come up with a way to tell you. Looks like it worked, eh?" Harry nods, burring his face in Draco's leg. A silence fills the room, making Harry almost uncomfortable because he wanted to say something. Anything that he thought, felt. He wanted to help Draco through that. But, he finally only manages "I.. don't know what to say. Everything you've said. I don't agree with you. You're not a doll, you're not heartless, and plenty of people care for you!! You should know that Draco." Draco laughs, leaning his head back on the chair and closing his eyes. "Say it again. My name." Harry lifts his head up. "Draco." He says, and watches as a smile grows on said person's face.

"Has it helped you, Draco?" Harry asks. Draco sighs, still smiling. "Nothing will work. I'm too far gone." He whispers, hoping Harry wouldn't hear, but he knew he did. "Something has to work! You can't stay like this forever can you?" Harry says, standing up on his knees and leaning forward. Draco looks down at him, then leans down to meet with Harry, bringing their lips together again. "Maybe. I haven't stopped trying yet have I? And look, I found someone that loves me. Even after I told you all of this. Who knows. Maybe I'll get better and go back to that bastard you knew for five years." Draco smiles. Harry smiles back, telling the boy in front of him "Yeah, maybe so, but I'll still love you. Just promise me one thing." "Hmm?" "Before you resort to cutting yourself again, you have to find me. I don't want you to keep turning your arms into swiss cheese." Draco laughs at the symbolizm, but then decides there wasn't any. His arms really did remind him of swiss cheese. "I promise." Draco whispers.

But this wasn't enough was it? Draco questions. He still felt the overwhelming need to see, taste and smell the blood rushing just underneith the skin. So he'd found someone to love who loves him back, for some reason it just seemed to magnify that need. For now he ignores it, lifting his head up to hear two very familar voices, and neither belonged with the other..

"...he was going to the library. Didn't you say that Harry was going there too?" It was Blaise, obviously looking for Draco. Harry hears Hermione pipe in. "Yes, but he wasn't there, and I didn't see Malfoy either. Oh, I do hope he's alright. He'd been seeming a bit down here lately, but I didn't want to pry." Draco and Harry hear their footsteps stop on the door. "So had Draco." Hermione gasps. "You think, maybe.." "I don't know. Maybe. I do know that, instead of going to the library, maybe Draco had went to find Harry." "That's what I think. It doesn't make alot of sense though. Why would Malfoy be looking for Harry?" "You mean to tell me you haven't noticed?" "Noticed what?" "Draco, at the least, has a crush on the Golden Boy. But I think it's deeper than that." "Hmm. I had noticed the way Harry had watched him, and Malfoy just so happened to be stareing back. You think maybe they found each other?" They move off of it. "Very possible."

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Draco whispers. Harry giggles. "I think they know where we are. But still, Blaise and Hermione? Wow. They must be worried. I wonder if Ron was there." Draco shrugs,getting up from the chair and going over to the door, lifting it up a bit. Quickly, he shuts it again. "They found us." He says to Harry. Harry laughs. Suddenly a loud banging comes from the other side of the door. "We know you're in there. Get out here." Blaise yells. Draco sighs, Harry still laughing, lifting up the door and coming out, Harry not too far behind. Draco shuts the door, then turning to Blaise, crosses his arms. "What was that all about?" He asks as seriously as he could. Blaise shrugs, looking over at Hermione who was laughing about as hard as Harry. "We couldn't resist." She giggles. "It was too tempting." "Yes, but" Draco starts "How did you find us?" Hermione raises her hand only slightly above her head. "Um, that's where I come in. I decided to follow Harry, having felt bad about what happened in the Great Hall, and I saw you both comming in here. So, knowing that Blaise was Draco's best friend, I went to find him, which, I must say, wasn't easy! That stupid snake wouldn't even let me close! I outta rip it from the wall and smash it." Hermione, realizing what she'd said, blushes a deep crimsom red before seeming to shrink on the spot. "Wow, I didn't know you had it in you, except the time you punched Draco, of course." Harry says, recieving a soft snort of protest from said Slytherin. Blaise agrees, even though he wasn't there to see it, he had seen the results.

"Anyway, we'd better go, if no where else, to the library. People are beginning to stare at us." Hermione whispwers. They all silently agree with the girl and follow here to said area, Harry and Draco walking hand in hand, never seperateing.

"So, what happened down there?" Hermione asks, keeping her voice down as to not disterb any of the other students in the library. Harry and Draco look at each other, Harry smiling while Draco raises an eyebrow, trying to keep the smirk off his face. "Nothing. Nothing... Serious." Draco says, shrugging. Hermione sighs. "Draco, spill!" Hermione says, slamming her palms against the table. "Uh..." Harry says, slowlly backing away from Hermione the best he could. "You're going out, right?" Blaise says, his voice one even tone. Harry smiles and blushes, Draco grins, a glint in his eyes that said, "I got the all of it for myself too". Blaise smiles, almost laughing.

It was weird. He had gotten the boy to tell him what was wrong, but yet, he hadn't told him anything. It seemed they had the same problem; they cut themselves. But for him, it was different. It wasn't because he needed the physical pain to take his mind off his mental and emotional pain. It was just the blood. The blood that he took from himself every night, grinning at the pools, taking enough to satisfy him, and more. Much more, but he couldn't stop. He guessed that was also a problem, but he didn't care. He didn't want to stop.

And, he also guessed, that the only thing keeping him from being an actual vampire was not being able to go out in sunlight. He already slept during the day, and stayed up at night, but there was still something missing.

That was why Draco was here, watching Harry take little bits of his own blood, relishing in the taste, in the feel of it rolling on his tounge. The Slytherin gets up, an almost painful look reflecting in his eyes, as he takes the blade from Harry's hands, taking his own robe from his shoulder and leaving a cut, sensing the blood seeping out. In a moment, Harry's mouth covered the wound, his skillful tounge working out more blood without letting the cut seal up. Draco lets out a low moan, feeling the raven haired boy smirk against his skin, only making him work more, faster, and softer, dragging out more sounds from Draco.

Suddenly, Harry is ripped from his position at his shoulder, his lips red with blood and a line going down his chin, he immediantly wipes off, licking it off the back of his hand. "What" lick "was" lick "that for?" lick. Draco's eyes narrow, a small, almost saddistic smile growing on his face. "You think you're the only one going to have fun?" Harry stops, taking in what Draco said, then the same smile plays across his lips.

"Come and get me."

Kid(8/4/04): Okay, I know that last part is a bit weird, but I couldn't help it. I mean, it couldn't only be happening to Draco now could it?

Well, anyway, I guess this ending will have to do for now. If you have a better idea for an ending, I'd love to hear it.

Fushigi: Why did you have to do that? Poor Harry, poor Draco. I feel sorry for them, having to go through that.

Kid: hits Fushigi over the head with a frying pan. That should keep her quiet for a little while. I never really saw them as the innocent type (and I'm sure that you all can agree with me on that with Draco), and I always thought that if someone or something was going to be ripped of their innocence in that nature, why not have it done with the one thing that is so often seen as something that saves instead of damns? I love when that happens. If you think it's weird, then it's your opinion.

Fuyu: Well... I do think that was a bit weird, but I've seen worse. nods Yes, I've definently seen worse.

Kid: That's not a complement, you know.

Fuyu: I meant it to be. Anyway, before we can get a argument started:

Owari! (End!)


End file.
